Coffee
by UrsineEnchantment
Summary: Isn't it strange how one smell can mean so many things? (One-shot/headcanon drabble exploring the ties between Makoto's life and some Bean Water. Shumako is hinted, but that isn't the focus of this piece.)


She hadn't noticed it until she'd gotten home, once she had started to pull her school vest over her head to prepare for her evening shower. It was a rich and dark scent, and it seemed to have clung to the fabric in much the same way Akira had been clinging to her shoulder while they'd been talking on his couch a couple of hours ago. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, she held the fabric to her chest for a moment and closed her eyes, deep in thought.

A few weeks ago, she would have wrinkled her nose and tossed the vest and the rest of her clothing in the hamper immediately. So why then, did she feel so calm now? When had her feelings changed? When had the meaning of this one scent changed?

 _ **XXX**_

It wasn't as if she hated coffee. Not the drink, anyways. It was the _smell,_ the thick, inescapable odor that seemed to permeate through every scrap of air, surrounding her senses and suffocating her.

Once, a very long time ago, she had actually liked the scent of coffee in the air. It had been mornings with her father at the table during breakfast, light conversations about school and family and plans they might make for fun once his cases were wrapped up, cheesy jokes and firm hugs. It had been warmth, security, and admiration. He had drunk coffee for the way it complimented a hearty meal. It had been a moment of pleasure and a potion of strength to prepare him for the day's challenges.

Of course, then the...unfortunate event had occurred. For a month or so, the air in her home was empty and stale, as if the floating particles themselves were mourning the loss of her father as much as she had. As much as Sis had. She'd almost fixed some one morning, just for the sake of filling the air of the kitchen again, but had stopped and put the mix away before she could heat up the water. The smell wasn't going to bring her father back, and she wasn't sure she could handle it without him. She'd opened a window instead. Fresh air, for a fresh start. She needed to move on, to mature, like her dear sister had.

In a way, her sister moving on seemed to also involve bringing their father back. One morning instant coffee had filled the air again as she'd stepped into the kitchen for breakfast, and her sister had mumbled something about needing a bit of extra energy for the day. It had actually been comforting at first, to have that perfume around once again. Like he was still there, watching over them both. Sae was keeping him alive.

He began rising from the grave once every few days. That soon became every day, and then he grew to haunt the nights as well. Or at least, the few nights that Sis was actually home.

She grew to hate coffee. The aroma shifted from an indicator of closeness into one of distance, a sure sign that Sae was working all day and long into the night. It polluted her sister's breath whenever she ranted over work or scolded her for her lack of achievement. It choked her out whenever she tried to plead that perhaps Sae needed to take a break or sleep at home for _just one night,_ smothered her words about how far apart they'd grown and reminded her how selfish her complaints were when her sister was working _so hard_ to provide for her. Coffee was an addictive poison running through Sae's veins, sending her hands trembling and not hiding the dark circles under her eyes. Her sister didn't drink coffee for pleasure or strength, she drank it as a cheap fix, a way to slap a bandaid on her problems and pretend they didn't exist. To give her the energy to fight, yes, but also to help her run from her own exhaustion.

It was a bitter smell for bitter people, a stench that filled an empty house (not a home), and she was glad to go to school just to escape it.

Then school became just as difficult an environment to be in.

It wasn't that her studies were a struggle, really, because the books themselves were easy enough. It was that everything else had become so distracting. Between the events from the arrival of the transfer student, to all of the horrific scandals with Kamoshida and that poor, _poor_ girl that she hadn't been able to help, hadn't even _seen_ struggling, and then the principal breathing down her neck while she tried to investigate the Phantom Thieves and those students being exploited by gangs...she'd become exhausted. Stressed and exhausted, her carefully-planned schedule falling to pieces because she couldn't seem to focus during her allotted study time, couldn't sleep because she still had homework to finish and worries buzzing around in her head.

She replaced the buzz of worry with the buzz of caffeine.

That same wretched thing that kept Sis in its clutches had sunk its claws into her as well, the only thing giving her enough energy to complete the increasing amount of tasks burying her. Every bitter sip was like acid, hot and dangerous, and it made her feel sick just to smell the pot in the morning, but she'd _needed_ it, no matter how hypocritical that made her after how harshly she'd judged her sister.

It was after joining the Phantom Thieves that she realized she didn't need it anymore. Slowly, they'd started lifting the burdens from her. They'd given her the power to fight back against injustice, and reminded her of her potential. Not simply that she _had_ all of that potential, but that she could _choose_ what to do with it, could pick _her own path_ to follow. They'd helped her save the students from Kaneshiro, and then she'd stood up to the principal and ended her investigation. She'd found a reason to go to school beyond studying. She'd found _friends,_ and they'd seemed to renew her energy in ways the caffeine never had. She returned to drinking water for the most part, cool and pure.

Of course, then they'd ended up moving their meeting place to Leblanc'. She'd mostly sipped at the cups Boss gave them all (with the exception of Ryuji) to be polite. The younger blonde had already made such vocal complaints the first time that she hadn't quite felt comfortable refusing as well, especially when she was supposed to be the 'adult' of the group. Besides, this wasn't the same instant mix from those bitter times. Sojiro poured care and artistry into each blended mug, and she'd could stand to appreciate that for the length of their meetings.

If she had to pinpoint the moment when things started to shift, she supposed it was as her friendship with their leader grew that she found herself slowly growing more fond of the drink. Whenever she visited during the odd hours when Boss was out, Akira seemed to take an extra bit of pride in playing barista, testing out different combinations and setting a steaming cup in front of her with a little grin on his face. She'd never found it in her to burst that excited bubble by telling him she wasn't actually the biggest coffee drinker, and the majority of the time his efforts turned out to be palatable. Actually, he was beginning to hone his craft, and she had to admit that the cups were more than simply drinkable, they were...quite nice. She even began to appreciate them more thoroughly when he started telling her different facts and pieces of trivia he'd learned, about the beans and where they came from, or how different preparations could bring about entirely different tastes. There was a lot she didn't know about the subject, and she enjoyed learning new things. She enjoyed listening to him ramble on with such _passion_ when he was normally so quiet.

Instead of simply accepting when he offered, taking sips out of obligation, she had eventually found herself requesting specific brews when she visited, or craving the taste on her tongue when she wasn't near Leblanc.

The smell didn't make her sick anymore. It didn't bring immediate thoughts of losing her father, or her sister's growing distance. It was closer to those early mornings. It was warmth and closeness and safety and...Akira. It was Akira. Her closest friend. Her...more-than-a-friend. It clung to him whenever they were close enough, and now...

 _ **XXX**_

Now it had started clinging to her too...and she welcomed it.


End file.
